Threads
by Living Dangerously
Summary: Just a drabble that popped into my head when I was thinking about those spirit threads that popped up early on in bleach never to be seen again.  Probably not really T, but I haven't really gotten the hang of the rating thing.


"Red!"

Orihime beamed, and the smile was infectious.

"So you're finally starting to see them? That's great Orihime! usually it takes several months of training for a shinigami to start getting the hang of seeing Spirit Threads."

"It's doubly impressive the way she's figuring it out so quick with such a half-assed teacher," offered Renji from the living room, where he was primarily absorbed in watching some sporting event on Inoue's television set. Rukia had agreed to teach the girl how to see Spirit Threads, and the tattooed man had taken it upon himself to tag along for the chance to mooch off her television set.

"She is a talented student, but such rapid progress can only be achieved when talent is paired with a superior instructor," Rukia seemed to grow taller as she replied.

"Yeah, yeah..." The red-head returned his focus to the two humans vigorously punching one another onscreen and took another swig of his beer.

It was true, at least, that the young girl was talented. A couple of hints as to the finer points of it, and she'd started picking up the skill in a matter of hours. Rukia was proud of her.

...and of her teacher, of course.

"Kuchiki-san?"

"Yes?" Superior-Sensei Rukia ignored the peanut gallery in the living room and turned back to her pupil.

"So... it's red for shinigami, right?"

"Yep!"

"And white for humans?"

"Precisely!"

"Well... uh..." The orange-haired girl was glancing back and forth between Rukia and the dolt on the couch in the next room. She obviously had more questions. Well, best not to rush her. A great teacher would know, as Rukia did, not to put a student on the spot like that, and would therefore instead sit, waiting patiently, as Rukia was, while her charge gathered her thoughts. Superior-Sensei Kuchiki Rukia took another drink of her tea-

"What do the gold ones mean?"

-and promptly sprayed it all over Orihime's kitchen table.

"WHAT?"

Orihime started as though slapped, thinking she had messed up somehow. She'd been doing it right and Kuchiki-san had been so happy, but now Kuchiki-san was upset and staring at the back of Abarai-san's head like it was sprouting kittens.

"... I'm sorry Kuchiki-san... I see the red ones, and the white ones, just like you said... but there's this gold one running between you and Abarai-sa-"

She was cut off as the shorter woman abruptly thrust her small hand over her friend's mouth. Renji turned his head, his attention drawn by the commotion in the kitchen.

"Did somebody call me?"

"NO! Who would ever talk about you! Shut up and watch TV!"

"Uh..."

**"TV!"**

"But I was-" Renji watched in confusion as Rukia muzzled her pupil, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her to her feet.

"We have more studying to do! We're going to practice more where you won't bother us!"

"-pretty sure I heard-"

"We're going into this room! Don't follow us!" Rukia staged a swift retreat for the nearest door.

Orihime made muffled protests, but Rukia was having none of it. She thrust the taller girl through the door, followed her in, and slammed the door.

"-my name?" Renji watched, momentarily befuddled, before one of the men on screen pulled his attention back by landing a particularly vicious combination on his opponent. The red-haired shinigami sniffed. "Women."

The room was dark, and Orihime had barely moved from the doorway. The two of them were pressed together uncomfortably, and Rukia tried to push her further in to get some breathing room.

"um... Kuchiki-san?"

Rukia shoved a little more.

"This is my closet."

The small shinigami gave a groan. Well, it was better than nothing. More importantly...

"Never ever EVER tell anyone about the gold thread!" she whispered furiously, exasperated.

"But what-"

"NEVER!"

"O-okay..."

Rukia gave a relieved sigh and sank to the floor. Not knowing what to do, Orihime sat down across from her in the dark, their backs pressed against the walls and their feet cramped together and tangled. Her sensei leaned back, enshrouding her upper body and face in a forest of jackets and skirts.

They sat quietly in the dark for a long moment. Orihime's eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness and she stared at her friend's feet. After some time passed, Orihime decided maybe it was best to leave Kuchiki-san alone. She started to stand, only to have a thin hand snake out of the darkness catch her by the wrist.

"Orihime?"

"Yes?"

There was another long silence, and Orihime wondered briefly if her friend would say anything at all. When she finally spoke up, it was in a voice that was barely a whisper, almost to soft to hear.

"Was it... really gold?"

"Yeah."

"All the way? Not half way, like... one color on my side and... another on his, just gold the whole way?

"Just gold."

There was a muffled thump from the forest of jackets, as a pint-sized shingami head fell back and bumped softly against the wall.

"That idiot."


End file.
